No one plants seeds anymore, except me. People are too busy. They haven’t time to wait for seeds to grow. Also, in Houston, you are supposed to wait until February 15 to plant seeds outside, when the chance of having a freeze has passed. But I cannot wait. I love to see tiny seeds break through the dirt.
I sit in my kitchen facing a south window where pleasant sunshine pours through the screen door. The temperature outside registers 66 degrees; inside, 74 degrees. My son, Dale, brings inside two planter boxes of dirt (each 45 inches long, five inches wide, and four inches tall). He places them on the counter in front of the large sunny south window and adjacent east window. The position of the windows will allow the constant sun to keep my tomatoes seeds warm. Dale places the boxes of dirt on cookie sheets to protect the counter from the boxes’ drainage holes.
When I plant tomato seeds, I am happy. I get comfortable and have the boxes of dirt right in front of me with my feet under the counter. I dump the seeds (Celebrity) out of the envelope, 36 seeds into a white saucer. I can see the black seeds better in a white saucer. I make three lines in the dirt going from one end to the other end of the planter box one or two inches apart. I can’t see the black seeds when I push one off the white saucer into the black dirt, but I manage to get the seeds covered with the dirt, each an inch away from the next seed. I finally get all 36 seeds planted. I then water very carefully. One year the seeds did not come up because they were too wet. Now, I use a sprayer bottle of water to gently spray water on the seedlings. I never give them much water at a time. In six or seven days I will see a tiny stem with a leaf sticking up. I love the tedious business of planting and the constant watching for stems to come through the dirt. It is like death into life; a miracle.
You must buy seeds from a reputable nursery. I buy “Celebrity.” I’ve found them to be just right for Houston’s weather. They do not get diseases, and the tomatoes they produce taste wonderful.
I planted my seeds on January 13. I keep them in my warm kitchen until the seedlings turn into plants. Last year I planted my seeds on the same date. By February 7 they were four inches high. To keep them from being too crowded I replanted the babies each into four inch pots—still keeping them indoors—so they could get stronger before I transplanted them outside. The small plants stay in the warm kitchen for a five-week period, and until each plant gets five or six leaves. Then they are ready to go outside into my tomato bed.Tomatoes have three growth periods of five weeks each:
1. Sowing to Transplanting (January 13—February 17) 2. Transplanting to Bloom (February 17—March 24) and 3. Bloom to First Harvest (March 24—April 28).
The second five-week period is the most critical. After the small tomato plants have been transplanted outside, they develop yellow blooms. It is important to have warm sixty degree temperature at night, so the blooms get neither too hot nor too cold. If the yellow blooms fall off, you will not have any tomatoes.
Even though I would not plant tomato seeds until January, I started getting my tomato bed ready as early as November. I picked out a bed in full sun. I chose a bed that did not grow tomatoes last year. I took out all the flowers and plants and replanted them elsewhere. My helper, Marco Sosa, added to the bed half compost to enrich the dirt and half potting soil, and handfuls of fertilizer (13,13,13). We added a sprinkling of lime. Lime counteracts the effect of too much phosphorus in the soil. Marco built up the bed—four inches above ground for drainage. He built a railing around the bed to hold the dirt. This can be built with lumber. He put stakes in the ground for the purpose of later erecting a net over the tomato bushes. A large net is necessary to keep out birds, squirrels, rabbits, and opossums. Loose boards or bricks will keep the net firm at the bottom. From November to February we left the bed vacant.
In February my helper, Raul Lopez, took the seedlings, each with five or six leaves, to my tomato bed. He took each plant out of its small pot, dug a hole, put in a spoon full of Osmocote, and planted the seedlings in rows—two and a half to three feet apart. This large amount of space between the seedlings is necessary so the tomato bushes have room to breathe. My tomato bed is about seventeen feet long and five feet wide.
When I told my ear, nose, and throat doctor, Dr. David, during one of my visits, about growing tomatoes, he got interested and wanted to know how he could grow tomatoes, if he did not have a large bed available. I told him tomatoes could be grown in pots—pots large enough for the fully-grown bushes–as long as the pots were kept in full sun. When Dr. David said he did not have time to make compost, I told him he could buy compost, but that he would miss the fun of making it. (Compost: mix grass clippings, leaves, dirt, 13,13, 13 fertilizer in layers up to five feet. To give the microbes–living bugs–air, turn the compost with a pitchfork. Water enough to moisten, so that the microbes stay alive. The compost will get warm– up to 160 degrees.)
Pick tomatoes during the third five-week period—Harvest. Pick tomatoes when they are beginning to turn pink. Put them inside on a sunny window sill and turn them so they will get red evenly. If you wait until the tomatoes turns red , you will find that they have been pecked. Under a net they stay beautiful until they are pink, so pick then.
When I first saw a tomato bush, I was four years old. We lived in a cottage on a dirt road in Navasota, Texas. My mother took my hand and walked me outside into the gate of our neighbor, Mr. Lee McGinty. Lee turned to me and said, “Good morning, Miss Lady. Come in and see my tomato bushes.” “Do they really make beautiful red tomatoes?” I asked. “Yes,” he said, “I want you to pick off a sucker.” He took my tiny little fingers, bent them around a sucker. He said “Pinch off this leaf growing in the center, so you can smell the wonderful smell.” I did so, and sniffed my fingers and said, “Oh, it smells so good.”
I love to plant tomatoes and have been planting them ever since I can remember. At 96years old, I look at my hands and think, “My hands are old and ugly, but I am thankful they can still plant seeds that turn into beautiful delicious tomatoes.”
SIDEBAR—TROUBLE SHOOTING BUGS IN PLANTER BOXES
One morning I came in to find both planter boxes of seedlings covered with tiny mosquito-like bugs. I did not know what to do. Fortunately I had been reading a new books about organic flower growing, “Dear Dirt Doctor,” by Howard Garrett. The author suggests using cornmeal. I sprinkled cornmeal in the planter boxes and just left it there. The bugs disappeared.
TOMATOES WITH BLACK BOTTOMS
When I picked my first tomato last year, I found a black bottom. I had heard about this, but had not added lime to the soil, which is the answer. Lime counteracts large amounts of phosphorus in the soil and prevents the appearance of black bottoms on tomatoes. You can imagine how awful I felt when I picked the first tomato and the whole back of the tomato was black. I had read that this would happen unless you put lime in the soil. So I did and have had no more of that kind of trouble.
WORMS IN SOIL
Another trouble I had was the appearance of a big fat green worm on a bush. My helper, Marco, got rid of it by picking it off and disposing of it. He sprinkled Dipel in the soil, a good protection against worms.
Note: This article was published in the November/December 2005 “Texas Gardener”, pages 20-21